A lady on the street who
lives in an apartment, asked
if she could have a little
section of our garden to tend.

This morning we were alerted
to an almost fragrant opiation,
the plantings came to fruition,
her Stocks are our Share.

Abbreviated to Nostrils,
one has to wonder, what
it is about bread and beans
that imbues our desire to
these invisible addictions.

Freshly ground coffee, the
sacramental administration
of fragrant flour, are our daily
panaceas, which instant and
supermarket loaves, discredit.

i am sleepwalking through
this clouded view of truth
and my soul is heavy
with your need to escape
all those noises they grew
so your voices would fade
the clouds are turning gray
and begin pouring fate
the rain wants to stay
but the sun finds a way
as they grow familiar
with the rivers and waves
i have formed in the desert
with the tears that i taste
from the suffering you face
and i want to erase
all the pain that remains
so that look on your face
can be lifted some day
as we all have the power
to shine light your way
and use our own privilege
to create worlds of change

peculiar,
just like you.
you prefer hydrangeas
over roses
and when
you planted
a valley
of them
inside of me
i get butterflies in my stomach
everytime i see you

when they told me:
Guard your spirit
i laughed, frilly manner
listless with decision
a water lily bobbing;
eager to cut my anchor and drift
Sinking
Sinking
drifting into deep

depth swallows my yellow.

I look to the East with deepen breath,
freeing soul inside love.
I look to the West with dancing steps,
freeing my soul inside dreams.
I look to the South with open eyes,
freeing soul inside visions.
I look to the North with hearts song,
freeing soul as my mind follows.
I look up to the sky with gratitude,
freeing soul integrating light
I look down to Mother Earth,
freeing soul as my feet ground.

Ground in celebration of a new day.

I want to write, she said.

I want to dream, she cried

I want to love, she screamed

I want to live, she roared

But the shadows weren’t listening

And the lights were flickering

They couldn’t hear her pleas

Her begging

In that cold

Dark

Prison of a

Mind.

So she drew in

Blood

In

Bone

In

Tears

In

Broken glass

In

Dawns
Dusks

Midnights

Starlights

And she crafted

The most beautiful

Breath stealing

Heart thieving

Blood boiling

Stories in this

Pitiful

World.

And she

Made them

Listen